


Undisclosed

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-21
Updated: 2010-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam asks, and Gabriel answers a bit unwillingly</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undisclosed

It’s the third time in as many weeks that Gabriel has saved his life, and Sam doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get why the archangel keeps showing up, doesn’t get why he never stays beyond a quick, unreadable look to make sure Sam is still breathing before he flies off again, to wherever it is he goes in between these random acts of coming to the rescue.

If Dean has noticed (and there’s no way he couldn’t, not when things keep happening like Sam flying brutally toward a brick wall only to have a mattress appear against it at the last moment, saving him from a broken spine or worse, or the time the knife coming straight for him suddenly turned into a neon-bright butterfly and fluttered away harmlessly), he certainly hasn’t said anything, and Castiel tends to defer to Dean in matters like these. But he has noticed the angel shooting him quizzical looks now and again, like Sam is doing something to make Gabriel act this way, like Sam has discovered some sort of secret power over him.

Which is ridiculous, because Sam _still_ doesn’t get why the archangel is doing this in the first place, and if he had any power over Gabriel, chances are he’d be using it to, you know, get him to help with the apocalypse.

But the point is, this isn’t the first time this has happened, but it is the first that Sam is bound and determined to get to the bottom of things. Before Gabriel can so much as snap his fingers, Sam is in his space, grabbing his arm as though that’s enough to keep the archangel from flying off if he really wants to. Clearly, by the amused smirk and the pointed glance down around where his hand is clenched, this is not, in fact, the case, but Sam’s also pleased (and a little confused) to note that, despite the fact that he _could_ , Gabriel isn’t going anywhere.

“We need to talk,” Sam says, tacking on a low and imploring, “Please,” at the end, like it will make a difference.

Gabriel’s eyes are unreadable, and he glances over to where Castiel is tending to an unconscious Dean. The angel looks up, and they seem to have a conversation with nothing but their eyes, until finally Gabriel nods, and with a snap of his fingers, takes Sam _elsewhere_.

When Sam gets his bearings, he realizes they’re back at the motel, though in a different room, this one sparse and clean and not currently in use by two brothers and their nearly fallen angel. He’s let go of Gabriel, and the archangel is standing by the window, his arms crossed over his chest as he gazes out into the darkening horizon. Sam watches him for a long moment before clearing his throat, prompting Gabriel to look at him with a closed off expression that he’s trying to twist into his usual smirk.

Sam stays standing where he is, silent but staring, inquisitive, and finally Gabriel sighs, his arms dropping to his sides before he spreads his hands wide. “So, you got me here. What do you want?” he asks.

“Why are you helping us?” Sam asks without preamble.

“I’m not,” Gabriel replies promptly. “I’m helping _you_.” His finger points at Sam, a furious jab that punctuates the acerbic tone of his voice. For whatever reason it is he’s here, there’s a part of him that hates it.

“All right,” Sam allows, his voice placating. “Then why are you helping _me_?”

Gabriel’s jaw clenches and he takes a step toward the hunter, pauses, looks away. Sam can see now that his hands are clenched into fists by his side. He takes a few steps forward himself, hesitantly puts himself nearly in Gabriel’s space. If the archangel was going to hurt him, he’s had plenty of opportunities to do it lately, and hasn’t taken any of them.

“Gabriel. Why are you helping me?” Because Sam has always been like a dog with a bone when it comes to getting answers. He never lets up until he understands, and he doesn’t yet, isn’t even close to understanding, but he _wants to_.

Gabriel’s eyes slide up slowly to meet his, so much shining in those honey-hazel depths that Sam can’t begin to process the emotions swirling there. Doesn’t have time to try anyway, because one moment they’re staring at each other, the silence thick and heavy between them, and the next Gabriel has lunged, clenching his fists around Sam’s jacket, pulling him forward and down until the hunter’s mouth collides with Gabriel’s, lips and teeth and tongues mashing together, and there’s no more space between them at all, and yeah, Sam thinks maybe he gets it now.

He’s just not sure what to do about it.

-  



End file.
